This Is Not Who You Are

“Grown-ups love figures… When you tell them you’ve made a new friend they never ask you any questions about essential matters. They never say to you ‘What does his voice sound like? What games does he love best? Does he collect butterflies?’ Instead they demand ‘How old is he? How much does he weigh? How much money does his father make?’ Only from these figures do they think they have learned anything about him.”
– Antoine de Saint-Exupery, The Little Prince

not who you are

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The Numbers Aren’t Your Identity

“Grown-ups love figures… When you tell them you’ve made a new friend they never ask you any questions about essential matters. They never say to you ‘What does his voice sound like? What games does he love best? Does he collect butterflies?’ Instead they demand ‘How old is he? How much does he weigh? How much money does his father make?’ Only from these figures do they think they have learned anything about him.”
– Antoine de Saint-Exupery, The Little Prince

“Use the Force, Boomer!”

The other day it occurred to a young friend of mine that the folks of my generation didn’t have cellphones when we were traveling around the highways and byways of life, hiking, climbing, having our youthful adventures. My young friend looked sort of astounded by this. “What happened if you got lost? What happened if your car broke down? What if you needed to be rescued?!”

And these are interesting questions, to be sure. I actually did get lost once or twice. And my car DID break down on a mountain road once – far away from a mechanic. And there was that time I sprained my ankle on a hike when I was by myself. And what I did at those times was… well… you know how Luke Skywalker switches off his targeting computer when he’s coming down that trench near the end of Star Wars IV, and depends on The Force instead? Yeah. Well. Those of us in the Boomer Generation did not even HAVE targeting computers to switch off – or cellphones or iPads or GPS systems or talking cars or Siri – so we learned early to trust in something besides technology for our salvation.

In my case, I learned early to trust in the Power of Good – to reach out to that power and immerse myself in the calm and peace of it, and expect that an answer to every problem would present itself.  When I got lost, I learned to nose around until I would get un-lost. When my car broke down on the way to a snow-shoeing adventure, a ranger appeared and, with the use of a paperclip, somehow got my car running again. When I sprained my ankle on a hike, I wrapped myself up in what I’d come to see as the truth about myself – that I was the whole and perfect reflection of Love, and could never, for a moment, reflect anything un-Godlike, and could never, for a moment, be separated from all that was good. I managed to hike down the trail and drive myself home – and by the time I got home my ankle was healed.

Today I found myself trusting in The Force once again. I’d gone down to visit my parents – two hours to the south of me. There were several things that I needed to help my parents take care of while I was there – among them a trip to the local Fred Meyers supermarket, and a trip to a barber for my dad. Mondays are not a good day to find a barber – as we soon found out, most barbershops are closed on Mondays. So I decided to save that errand for last, and to try to find the local Fred Meyers store first.

I knew how to get to the store going the long way, but I was pretty sure there must be a quicker way to get there. As I was driving down the avenue, speculating on what street might take me to the store, I suddenly spotted a barbershop to the right – with its door wide open!  I did a quick turn into the parking lot and ran inside to find out if the barber could fit my dad into his schedule – which he could, and did. About twenty minutes later Dad and I were back in the car with Mom – Dad sporting a dapper new haircut. I wouldn’t have found that barbershop if I’d been following directions from Mapquest or Siri or whatever.

So now I needed to find Fred Meyers. I have no GPS thingy in my car – and there’s nothing built into the car that can talk to me – and I probably wouldn’t know how to use it, if there was. But as I was driving down the avenue I realized I was approaching the highway, and I knew the store was this side of the highway somewhere. “Over there somewhere,” I thought to myself, and made a left turn. On the next busy road I made another left turn, and then, sort of feeling my way along the street, I made a right when i came to a stoplight. (I’m guessing most Boomers will know what I mean when I say, “feeling my way along” – that was how we used to find places in the olden days.) A block after I’d made my right turn, a big ol’ Fred Meyers sign suddenly appeared in front of me! (Insert a choir of heavenly angels singing “Haleleujah” here.)

“Use the Force, Boomer!”

Use the force

A Poem Lives on My Windowsill

There is a poem on my windowsill.
A treasure found, unfolding grace,
a cup full of fruition.
And love.

I see the caramel-colored agate I found
glowing on a beach in Bellingham,
and the tomatoes nurtured
and ripened on our back deck.
The rose blossoms were picked dew-laden
from our front garden this morning
and placed in the vase I bought for myself
in a rare “impractical” purchase
just because it made me happy
to imagine filling it with future buds.
And there are the ruby-red vases
trimmed in gold that my beloved Aunt Junie
gave me before she left this world
and that I will pass on with love
when that time comes.

A poem lives on my windowsill.

– Karen Molenaar Terrell

photo by Karen Molenaar Terrell

A Poem on the Windowsill